


A Reunion to Remember

by Lizzy1989



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Desire, Eventual Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, F/M, Longing, One-Sided Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Post Season 7, Rejection, Unrequited Love, Winterfell, not Jonsa Friendly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzy1989/pseuds/Lizzy1989
Summary: Jon Snow has finally returned to Winterfell...with the Dragon Queen at his side. Sansa is immediately wary and vows to keep a close eye on the volatile queen as she does her best to prepare Winterfell for the wars to come. All the while, she is struggling with the new and strange feelings she's developed for her brother. Will he return her feelings?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. I am new to AO3 and this is my first fanfic. This is my take on how I think the return to Winterfell will go. I hope you like. Also, I did accommodate some people and change the tagging but no additional changes will be made.

Sansa sighed heavily as she watched her half-brother, Jon, walking through the gates of Winterfell with a petite, silver-haired woman at his side.   _The Dragon Queen_ , she mused. The woman who had come to defend the North from those that would harm them, but at the same time demanded their allegiance.  Could she be trusted? Or was she nothing more than her father’s daughter – mad, unpredictable, and a danger to everyone around her.   _We will find out soon enough_ , she thought, plastering a smile onto her face as she walked up to hug Jon.  

“Sansa,” he breathed into her ear as they embraced.  “I’ve missed you.”

“And I, you,” she whispered, holding him tighter and longer than was necessary.  They had much to discuss. She raised her head to look behind him and the Dragon Queen was staring right at her, confusion and a hint of sadness swirling in her lavender eyes.  

Jon backed away, a sweet smile on his face and greeted the rest of his siblings.  First he turned to Bran, who looked to be in a daze as he hugged his brother while mumbling that they must talk soon.  Then there was Arya, who bounced into Jon’s arms, nearly knocking him over as they laughed and mussed each other’s hair.  

The entire time, Sansa was watching the Dragon Queen warily, sizing her up as she tried to determine whether she meant any harm to her and her family.  The woman was truly beautiful, she begrudgingly admitted, moon-kissed hair and a porcelain face adorned with amethysts for eyes and rosebud lips. The white fur coat she wore flattered her, she truly looked like a snow queen, but Sansa knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.  

Jon seemed oblivious to the brewing tension between the two women as he gestured for the Dragon Queen to move forward so he could introduce her to his family.  “Please meet Daenerys Targaryen, our rightful Queen,” he proudly said, his voice strong and clear.

Bran simply nodded, a distant look in his eyes.  “Your Grace.”

Arya walked closer to the woman, eyeing her from head to toe.  “Do you truly have dragons?” she finally asked. “And is it true you liberated Slaver’s Bay?”

Daenerys smiled at her.  “Yes, it is all true.  Perhaps you can meet my dragons soon.”

Arya smiled back, a far cry from the sullen warrior-girl she had been as of late, and Sansa discreetly rolled her eyes.   _Now is not the time for childish antics, Arya. This woman could mean us harm.  I do not trust her._

Finally, it was her turn to speak.  She curtsied gracefully, as her mother had taught her long ago, a forced smile on her face.  “Winterfell is yours, your Grace."

Daenerys nodded in a smug, entitled manner and Sansa literally wanted to choke the life out of her but kept her cool.  Courtesy was a lady’s armor, afterall. “We are honored that you have come to the North’s aid,” she begrudgingly added.

“I am happy to be here, Lady Stark.  I hope that this is only the beginning of a longstanding and fruitful alliance.”

Sansa nodded politely, keeping her thoughts to herself.   _Pretty words, Dragon Queen, but we shall soon see if your actions follow suit._

 

* * *

Later that afternoon, after all the introductions had been made and the accommodations seen to for the Queen and her brood of advisors and warriors, Sansa made her way to Jon’s chambers. He looked up from his desk and smiled, his brown eyes warm and inviting.

“Jon,” she said, smiling back.  “Again, I’m so happy you have returned unharmed.  I was worried for your safety while you were away at Dragonstone.”

Jon chuckled softly. “You needn’t have worried, Sansa.  I was treated very well and I have returned with everything we need – dragons, men, and most important of all, dragonglass.”

Sansa nodded as she tried to muster up the nerve to tell Jon what had been on her mind all these months while he was away.  The truth was that his safety hadn’t been the only reason she hadn’t wanted him to travel to Dragonstone. It was also because of her burgeoning feelings for him, feelings that had been confusing at first but now made perfect sense.  

She was in love with Jon, wrong, as she knew it might be as they had been raised together as siblings, but it was there all the same.  Love.  They had never been close in their youth, as she’d been forced to keep her distance per her mother Catelyn’s instruction, and as such, she didn’t love Jon as a brother the way she loved Bran and had loved Robb and Rickon.  No, this was something different.  Something startling.  Something that there was no time for when the Night King was nearly at their doorstep, but she couldn’t fight it any longer.

“Jon…there is something I need to tell you…” she began, only for Jon to interrupt her.  

“And there is something I must tell you as well,” he said excitedly, his eyes lighting up.  “Sansa, I know this will come across as ridiculous and make little sense at a time like this.  But… I’m in love.”

 _Yes!_ Sansa could have screamed.  Her dreams were coming true.  The love she felt for Jon was reciprocated.  She had no reason to fear.

“Oh, Jon,” she murmured, leaning close and closing her eyes, no longer able to hold back her desires. She pressed her lips softly against his, parting them invitingly as her tongue snaked out, probing, desperate to explore his mouth.

But to her dismay, Jon pushed her away, a look of shock and disgust on his face.  “Sansa…what are you…no, we cannot do this!”

Sansa moved closer to him, attempting to wrap her arms around him but Jon hesitated.  “Jon, I know.  It isn’t right.  But we cannot fight this anymore, it is too strong, I love you Jon, and you have just admitted that you are in love with me as well.  This can work Jon. We are only half-siblings and have never been close…until now.”

Jon blushed bright red, huffing out a nervous laugh.  “Wha…what?  Sansa, when I said I was in love, I did not mean with you.  I am in love with Daenerys Targaryen. And we intend to marry before the weirwood tree this evening in a private ceremony.”

Sansa stumbled backwards as the tears threatened to spill, the sting of rejection written all over her face.  “Marry… _her???_  Why?  Jon you don’t have to pretend any longer.  We’ve won her support; we have her dragons and armies now.  Is this a ploy to keep her invested in our cause?”

Jon shook his head at her, confusion on his face.  “Oh, Sansa, you truly do not know her as I do.  She pledged her support long before she and I confessed our romantic feelings for each other.  She truly is a worthy Queen.  I would be dead now if not for her.  She flew her dragons beyond the wall to rescue me when I needed her help, losing one in the process.  She is not her father, Sansa.  And…I fell in love with her while on Dragonstone.  I am so sorry for this misunderstanding…I…I never wanted to hurt you.”

Sansa could do nothing more than look at him in shock before slapping him hard across the face and racing from the room.  She ran into Arya as she stormed down the Winterfell halls and nearly knocked her over.

“What in the world…” Arya began.

“Shut up!” Sansa snapped, no longer caring.   _To hell with manners and decency!_  

She made it to her chambers and flopped on her bed, soaking her pillows with her tears.  And despite her siblings, especially Jon, attempting to enter her room and comfort her, she refused to have visitors, stationing two of her most trusted guardsmen at her door.

She did not attend the wedding ceremony that night, though she watched it in silence from her window.  Heavy tears streamed down her face as Jon and Daenerys bound themselves to one another – hearts, bodies, and souls.  And when the castle had finally settled down, the ceremony and feast over with as everyone took to their beds to rest and prepare for the next day, she found it hard to sleep.  For her brother and his Queen were so loud with their lovemaking that she could practically hear every thrust as they screamed and wailed, consummating their love for one another.  It was going to be a very long night indeed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Starks learn about Jon's parentage and Sansa has an idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks for reading. Since some of you asked for more, I will keep writing. I'm pretty busy at school but will update when I can.

“He’s a Targaryen?” Sansa gasped, repeating her brother’s words.  A rush of emotions pulsed through her as she attempted to process what she’d just heard.   _Everything was a lie.  He’s never been a bastard.  He’s the heir to the Iron Throne._ “You are sure of this?”

 

Bran simply nodded.  His face was a hard, expressionless mask.  “I have seen the visions.”

 

Behind him, Arya moaned in dismay as tears gathered in her eyes.  “Father should have told him... _us_.  And mother treated him so cruelly.  Gods, if she had only known the truth, then maybe…”

 

“Father obviously did what he thought was best,” Sansa interrupted, clasping her hands together tightly.  “Robert Baratheon would have killed us all if there was even a hint of a Targaryen being hidden away at Winterfell.”  She turned to stare out of a nearby window, watching as the snow fell and glistened on the ground below. “This changes everything… he’s not our brother...”

 

The words had barely left her mouth before Arya was in her face, jaw tightened and fists curled at her sides.  “He will _always_ be our brother!”

 

Sansa rolled her eyes, exasperated.  “Yes, Arya, he will always be like a brother to us, regardless, but the political ramifications of this can't be ignored.  He has a better claim to the throne than Daenerys...and, he’s her nephew!” She immediately turned to Bran. “Why didn’t you tell him who he was _before_ the bloody wedding?  He had a right to know that he was marrying his damned aunt!”  

 

Bran was calm and unfazed despite her raised voice and the tension in the room.  “The prophecy must be fulfilled,” he answered cryptically. “He will be told when the time is right.”

 

“Oh, piss on that!” Sansa said, a tiny flicker of hope springing up in her chest.  Jon was still a Stark no matter who his father had been. He would find the Targaryen practice of incest repulsive.  Marriage between cousins, however, was a different matter entirely...

 

“I must speak to Jon at once,” she announced, moving towards the door.

 

But Arya blocked her path.  “It is not your place to tell him.  Bran will tell him when the time is right!”

 

Sansa sneered at her sister.  “Jon belongs on the Iron Throne, _not Daenerys_.  I must push him to accept his birthright.”

 

“Perhaps you mean to push him into something else as well,” Arya replied, her voice clipped and edged with anger.  “Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I don’t know the _real_ reason you refused to attend his wedding?”

 

Sansa bristled at her sister’s insinuation but steeled herself behind a porcelain mask of denial and indifference.  “In case you’ve forgotten, I am still the Lady of Winterfell. Now let me pass.”

 

Arya stared at her warily, her grey eyes assessing, judging.  “True, I’ve forgotten my place, _Lady Stark_ ,” she replied in a mocking tone as she stepped to the side.  

 

Sansa released an irritable huff, and swept out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.  

 

* * *

  


“Good morning, my love,” Jon whispered, staring at the beautiful woman who lay beside him.  He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, savoring the sweet taste as he pulled her into his arms.  

 

Dany sighed, kissing him back eagerly as her lavender eyes settled on his brown ones.  “Good morning to you as well, my love,” she cooed. “I’m surprised you’re awake already.”  She smiled, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

 

“Aye.  You certainly wore me out last night,” he chuckled, a low rumble in his chest.  “It will take some time to regain all my strength.”

 

“I have faith in you, my handsome wolf,” she replied, burrowing down under the sheets and cuddling against him.

 

He immediately hardened against the feel of her soft curves and silken skin as longing stirred deep within him.  Gods she was sweet. Sweeter than he’d ever imagined. And though the hour was getting late and he should have been up preparing his men and fortifying the castle, he couldn’t pull away.

 

The sensation of her soft sensual lips pressed against him drove him wild.  He slid his tongue into her mouth, kissing her harder, deeper, claiming every inch that she was willing to give.  Their kisses became urgent, the desire building as her sweet little cries urged him on, and then they heard it.

 

Someone was pounding heavily on the door to their chambers as raised voices sounded from the outer corridor.  Jon quickly threw on his breeches and reached for Longclaw before cracking the door open. He halfway expected the castle to be under siege and was surprised to find that it was only Sansa.  She looked flustered and angry. Clearly there had been somewhat of a scuffle between her and the Unsullied guarding the doorway as she’d tried to force her way inside.

 

“Sansa, what is the meaning of this?” Jon asked as he set aside Longclaw.  “What is so important that warrants all of this commotion?”

 

“I have something urgent to tell you,” she said, breathless and wide-eyed.  “It could change everything.”

 

Jon ran his fingers through his curls.   _What was Sansa playing at?_  “All right,” he said, stealing a quick glance back at Daenerys.  She had pulled the furs up around her and was watching the two of them intently, confusion on her face.  “Allow us to get dressed and we’ll be more than happy to hear what you have to say.”

 

Sansa paused, her face blanched.  “Jon, I was hoping we could speak alone.”

 

He shook his head.  “Daenerys is my wife… and your Queen.  Whatever you have to say to me, you can say to both of us.”

 

“Fine,” she snapped.  “I’ll be waiting for you in my chambers.  Both of you.”

  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa reveals the truth to Jon and Daenerys.

Sansa paced nervously as she awaited Jon and Daenerys.  She forced herself to remain calm, though her heart was pounding so loudly she feared it would tear straight out of her chest.  A small part of her knew that she was being selfish. They were in the middle of war, against an evil so dark and dangerous that none of them knew if they would live to see the dawn.  Jon was their only hope if they were to survive the Night King and his army. The last thing he needed was to be told a truth that would shake him to his core, leaving him broken and vulnerable.  But whatever guilt she felt was quickly quashed by the longing in her heart for the man who so frequently visited her dreams as of late. She loved him with all of her heart, though it had taken her some time to realize it.  And when the truth became too much for him to bear, she would be the one to comfort him. She would help him pick up the pieces and stand by his side as he took his rightful place on the Iron Throne.

 

Three sharp raps at the door caught her attention, causing her pulse to to jump as she rushed to open it.  Jon and Daenerys stood before her, a wary look on their faces, and she motioned for them to come inside.  

 

Jon was never one to skirt around an issue and came right to the point.  “What is this about Sansa?” He sounded irritated. “What is so important that you felt the need to burst into our chambers so early in the morning -- the morning after our wedding, no less?”

 

Sansa fought to compose herself, the thought of Jon making love to Daenerys all night making her physically ill.  “Something urgent has come up,” she began, clasping her hands together, “Something that you have a right to know.”  She cast a direct glance at Daenerys, doing her best to hide the disdain she felt for the foreign invader with an egotistical sense of entitlement.

 

“And?”  Jon continued, a hint of exasperation in his voice.  

 

Sansa swallowed hard before getting on with it.  “Ned Stark isn’t your father.”

 

Jon stared at her dumbfounded for several long seconds before expelling a harsh laugh.  “Have you gone mad, Sansa?”

 

“What is the meaning of this?” Daenerys asked, visibly angry on Jon's behalf.  “Why would you say such a thing?”

 

Sansa ignored her, keeping her eyes fixated on Jon.  “Bran has proof of it. Father raised you as his own to protect you.”

 

“Protect me from what?” Jon asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“From King Robert’s wrath and certain death,” Sansa answered for him.  “Your mother was Lyanna Stark. And your father…”

 

Daenerys gasped.  “Rhaegar Targaryen… my brother,” she said, putting the pieces together.

 

“No...this can’t be true,” Jon said, backing towards the door.  “Ned Stark is my father.” A lone tear fell down his face. “Rhaegar kidnapped our aunt and raped her…”

 

“No, Jon.  Lyanna ran away willingly.  Rhaegar had an annulment and married her.  You are their trueborn son.” The tears were falling even harder now as Jon grappled with the enormity of Sansa’s words.  His eyes shifted to Daenerys, shame written all over his face. And yet Sansa continued, unmoved, unsympathetic. He needed to know.  “They named you Aegon Targaryen,” she said. “You’re the heir to the Iron Throne.”

 

At that, Jon stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.  Daenerys went to follow, calling after him in the hallway, but he ignored her.  She stood in the doorway for several long seconds, her shoulders slumped in defeat before she turned back to Sansa.  “Why would you do that? You had no right... ”

 

“I had _every_ right,” Sansa interrupted, glaring at her.  “Jon belongs on the throne.  And he deserves to know that he’s been fucking his own aunt!”

 

Daenerys was indignant, her voice shaking with emotion.  “I have worked my entire life for the throne and Jon named me his Queen.  You cannot just rip this away from me. Your brother’s visions are not proof.”

 

“They are,” Sansa said.  “My brother is the Three-Eyed-Raven now, he can see the past, present, and future.  You believed him about your dead dragon being raised by the Night King. Now you will deny him because his visions don’t support your quest for the throne?”  She stepped closer to her. “You don’t know anything about Westeros. You show up with your foreign armies and fearsome beasts and think you are entitled to rule over us because you are the daughter of a mad king that _my_ father fought to overthrow?  And in your desire for the throne you have laid havoc all over Westeros.  I’ve heard about what happened to Randyll and Dickon Tarly. I’ve heard about how you burned precious food and supplies in the midst of winter.  Jon would never have done such things. He’s the one to lead us, not you.”

 

She pushed past Daenerys and walked out of the room, but Daenerys wasn’t done.  “And I’ve heard about _you_ ,” she said bitterly. “Jon told me about the cruelty your mother showed him as a child and how you were not much better.  He also told me about how you withheld vital information from him during the Battle of the Bastards and how you’ve undermined his leadership at every turn!”  Her violet eyes flashed dangerously. “My people follow me because they believe in me, not because I’m the daughter of a king they never knew.  And the Tarlys were guilty of treason!  They betrayed Highgarden, stole their gold, and were complicit in the murder of Olenna Tyrell. It’s my understanding that you, too, have executed men for treason, or am I mistaken?”

 

Sansa flushed as she grasped futilely for a sharp retort.  She hadn’t expected that Jon would have told the foreign queen about Ramsey and Lord Baelish.  She hadn’t expected that they had any sort of relationship beyond lust and frivolities. “That’s not the same…”

 

“What is your true desire?” Daenerys pressed, cutting her off.  “You wish for Jon to take the Iron Throne so that you become Queen in the North?”

 

Sansa smirked, smug satisfaction coursing through her.  She had far higher aspirations that just that. “My desires are my own,” she replied coyly before turning on her heel and walking away.  Jon would be hers. And she wouldn’t just be Queen in the North. She would be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

 


End file.
